gentlemen can live up to the title.”
He looked around again and then walked away. I knew if it had been anyone except Cody there would have been a lot more screaming and taking down of names. Cody’s father worked in the school and Mr. Culpepper didn’t want to make trouble for him. I watched as Alvin and some of his guys got together and shot some dirty looks our way before leaving the lunchroom together.
“I don’t know if they make jerks in grades,” Cody said, standing near me, “but if they do, then Billy Stroud is class A all the way. He was coming at you like a freight train.”
“Thanks, man,” I said.
“No problemo,” Cody said.
I went over to Kambui and saw that he was steaming mad.
A girl named Zhade Hopkins, Shantese’s sister, was with him and I asked her to tell LaShonda and Bobbi tomeet us in the media center. Kambui had a thing for Zhade. He’d been trying to get a date with her for over a year.
“If you guys get into it don’t use any guns,” Zhade said. “It ain’t worth it.”
The word was on the street.
“We need to get some brothers together and just get busy with the Sons of the Confederacy and anybody else who needs to get his head whipped,” Kambui said, looking me down. We were meeting in the media center and Kambui had brought the Jackson brothers and Phat Tony from the Genius Gangstas to the meeting. “I’m dealing on my own because you’re acting like you’re scared of them.”
“I’m not scared of anybody,” I said. “But if we’re going to war you need to show me the win you found. If there’s going to be a fight there’s got to be a win in it somewhere. Show me what you got.”
“One of Alvin’s dudes came up to me in Social Studies and said if I picked enough cotton he would let me sit on the front porch with him in the evening,” LaShonda said. “I told him if he needed any cotton picked he’d better tell his mama to pick it. Making him keep his mouth shut is a win for me.”
“And Alvin was up in my face in the lunchroom,” Kambui said. “He’s moved the set from his little jokes to jumping bad because he knows you’re too scared to fight.”
“The civil rights movement wasn’t about fighting,” I said. “Martin Luther King, Jr., wasn’t about fighting.”
“No, but he had some righteous brothers in the streets who were ready to get down if they had to,” Kambui said. “And Frederick Douglass was down for peace but he still told Abraham Lincoln that the Union needed to get some black soldiers involved in the Civil War. Yo, man, if it was good enough for Frederick Douglass, it’s good enough for me.”
“I think Zander is running shy,” LaShonda said. “He definitely doesn’t look like he’s ready for no serious throw down.”
“I think we should remain true to our role as peacekeepers,” Bobbi said. “And that’s not about fighting.”
“Bobbi McCall, how are you going to fix your mouth to say that when you’re not black?” LaShonda asked. “It doesn’t affect you the way it does us.”
“LaShonda, I may not be as dark as you”—Bobbi got both hands up on her hips—“but I’m every bit as humanas you are. If you’re putting down human beings, then you’re putting me down, too.”
“Anybody that paints their nails with the prime numbers is not as human as I am,” LaShonda said. “You may be smart but you are freaky.”
“Yeah, well, that, too, LaShonda,” Bobbi said, checking out her nails. “But that doesn’t move me away from what I’m feeling about this.”
“Alvin’s walking around with bodyguards now,” Kambui said. “He’s been hanging out with some of the big guys in the school. I think they’re just looking for a fight.”
“Yeah, but isn’t that the way all wars get started?” I asked. “The textbook said that most of the people in the South didn’t have slaves but got caught up in the idea they were fighting for their states or for their homes. I think they forgot about
He looked around again and then walked away. I knew if it had been anyone except Cody there would have been a lot more screaming and taking down of names. Cody’s father worked in the school and Mr. Culpepper didn’t want to make trouble for him. I watched as Alvin and some of his guys got together and shot some dirty looks our way before leaving the lunchroom together.
“I don’t know if they make jerks in grades,” Cody said, standing near me, “but if they do, then Billy Stroud is class A all the way. He was coming at you like a freight train.”
“Thanks, man,” I said.
“No problemo,” Cody said.
I went over to Kambui and saw that he was steaming mad.
A girl named Zhade Hopkins, Shantese’s sister, was with him and I asked her to tell LaShonda and Bobbi tomeet us in the media center. Kambui had a thing for Zhade. He’d been trying to get a date with her for over a year.
“If you guys get into it don’t use any guns,” Zhade said. “It ain’t worth it.”
The word was on the street.
“We need to get some brothers together and just get busy with the Sons of the Confederacy and anybody else who needs to get his head whipped,” Kambui said, looking me down. We were meeting in the media center and Kambui had brought the Jackson brothers and Phat Tony from the Genius Gangstas to the meeting. “I’m dealing on my own because you’re acting like you’re scared of them.”
“I’m not scared of anybody,” I said. “But if we’re going to war you need to show me the win you found. If there’s going to be a fight there’s got to be a win in it somewhere. Show me what you got.”
“One of Alvin’s dudes came up to me in Social Studies and said if I picked enough cotton he would let me sit on the front porch with him in the evening,” LaShonda said. “I told him if he needed any cotton picked he’d better tell his mama to pick it. Making him keep his mouth shut is a win for me.”
“And Alvin was up in my face in the lunchroom,” Kambui said. “He’s moved the set from his little jokes to jumping bad because he knows you’re too scared to fight.”
“The civil rights movement wasn’t about fighting,” I said. “Martin Luther King, Jr., wasn’t about fighting.”
“No, but he had some righteous brothers in the streets who were ready to get down if they had to,” Kambui said. “And Frederick Douglass was down for peace but he still told Abraham Lincoln that the Union needed to get some black soldiers involved in the Civil War. Yo, man, if it was good enough for Frederick Douglass, it’s good enough for me.”
“I think Zander is running shy,” LaShonda said. “He definitely doesn’t look like he’s ready for no serious throw down.”
“I think we should remain true to our role as peacekeepers,” Bobbi said. “And that’s not about fighting.”
“Bobbi McCall, how are you going to fix your mouth to say that when you’re not black?” LaShonda asked. “It doesn’t affect you the way it does us.”
“LaShonda, I may not be as dark as you”—Bobbi got both hands up on her hips—“but I’m every bit as humanas you are. If you’re putting down human beings, then you’re putting me down, too.”
“Anybody that paints their nails with the prime numbers is not as human as I am,” LaShonda said. “You may be smart but you are freaky.”
“Yeah, well, that, too, LaShonda,” Bobbi said, checking out her nails. “But that doesn’t move me away from what I’m feeling about this.”
“Alvin’s walking around with bodyguards now,” Kambui said. “He’s been hanging out with some of the big guys in the school. I think they’re just looking for a fight.”
“Yeah, but isn’t that the way all wars get started?” I asked. “The textbook said that most of the people in the South didn’t have slaves but got caught up in the idea they were fighting for their states or for their homes. I think they forgot about
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